Ordinary Common Grief
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: I think the title says it all really! Angst ahoy! RH.
1. Chapter 1

**As always my thanks go to Em who not only beta's my stuff but puts up with endless questions I have and encourgaes me to write things that I wouldn't normally write. So, Pea, this fic is for you. For being the only person strange enough to want this fic written!**

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The cold November rain streaked the windows of the darkened house as the piercing wind rattled the windows in their frames. The other houses nearby looked warm and inviting as anybody with any sense stayed indoors and curled in front of the fire with loved ones. She sat in the car, eyeing the weather with mistrust and watching, waiting for a sign that there was life within the four walls. Eventually, her curiosity was piqued enough for her to wrap the winter coat tighter around her slender frame, struggle out of the warm car and race up the path of the house that interested her. She could hear the doorbell echoing through the seemingly empty house, purposely pressing it for longer than was necessary in the vain hope it would cause the occupant to rouse and open the door. She knocked long and loud on the glass partition of the door and, when there was no answer still, she pressed her face on to the freezing glass, peering inside the gloomy hallway as her breath fogged up the coloured glass. 

It was no use. There was nothing and no-one to be seen. She stamped her feet in a bid to keep herself warm as she contemplated her next move. Crouching low, she reached a hand to the letter box. She was almost certain she could see a figure huddled in the far corner of the kitchen, and her heart ached to think of her friend trapped in the dark and cold room.

"Ruth? Ruth it's me, Jo. Please open the door."

Silence.

"I know you're there. You don't have to do this alone..." she trailed off, unsure of the right words. "I-I just want to help. Damn it, Ruth, just open the door!"

When her outburst still failed to get a response, she sighed wearily and spoke softly through the letter box for a final time. "I'll see you at the church, you know where I am if you need me."

---

Ruth sat and listened to the sound of the letter box banging shut echo through the house. In the stillness of the kitchen, she could just about make out the sound of Jo's retreating footsteps. Relieved, she picked the glass tumbler off the floor in front of her, reflexively taking a gulp of the biting amber fluid that sloshed from one side of the glass to the other as she moved it to her mouth. She welcomed the feel of the burning trail the alcohol left as it glided down her throat. Her eyes opened and it was then, over the rim of the thick, square cut tumbler in her hand, that she saw him; leaning against the kitchen wall opposite her as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

In the surrounding silence, she heard the sob that tore from her throat unbidden. Her hand was decidedly unsteady as she continued to down the whisky, but it gave her something to do. She closed her eyes, collecting herself, and when she opened them again he was still there, a half smile on his face as he looked at her. He was wearing her favourite shirt; she loved him in blue. When they first got together she had confessed to him that she was often distracted by the sight of him in that shirt - he had worn it the next day and winked at her from the confines of his office when he caught her staring.

Her hands still shook as she placed the glass on the floor between her feet and reached for the bottle at her side. Her measure was more than generous, helped slightly by the shaking of her hands as she poured.

"You'll have a hang over tomorrow, you know."

She laughed, then. A small bark of bitter sounding laughter. "I think that's the least of my worries."

The tilt of his head to one side was so achingly familiar to her that, despite herself, she began to talk to him.

"I'm cold, tired and hungry. I've spent the last four hours sat here on the kitchen floor trying to drink myself into oblivion, which doesn't seem to be working all that well, and, to top it all off, I'm now talking to my dead husband. So, I think you'll agree, a hang over is the least of my concern."

"Ah."

A sudden burst of anger ripped through her and she launched the glass and its contents towards him. Her aim was wide of the mark and the glass shattered against the wall with a satisfying crash. She welcomed the noise after the silence of the previous hours and started to shout loudly.

"You're not really here. You died Harry. You died and left me and I hate you for it!"

The tears flowed freely as her shouts turned to painful, heart breaking sobs. Rage tinged with soul wrenching pain encompassed her and nothing made sense; she could see and yet she was blind; she could hear and yet she was deaf; she could feel and yet she was numb.

When the tears would fall no more, she wiped her face with the sleeve of her jumper. Tears and snot mingled together but she didn't care. Not any more. She did the only thing she could think of and reached for the bottle once more, swigging straight from the neck and praying it would take her troubles away.

Throughout it all, he had stood watching her rant and cry at him. As she took a long swig from the bottle in her hand, he moved to sit beside her on the floor.

"You should never drink alone. I'll sit with you."

His whisper sounded in her head and uninvited, silent tears fell from her eyes. How long she sat on the cold, hard floor with the whisper of him to her side, she didn't know. She awoke in the early hours of the morning, face down on the floor. Her head pounded, loudly, but what she noticed most was the faint trace of his scent on the air.

**TBC? A review would be very much appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

The church was extremely full and, had she not been so preoccupied with remembering how to breathe, she would have taken comfort to know that so many people had come to mourn his passing. She stood at the front, trying not to stare at the polished wooden casket that stood before the alter. The service passed her by in a blur. She was aware of Catherine clutching onto her arm at one point and together they found the strength to get through it. The words of the hymn felt awkward and clumsy in her mouth as she valiantly attempted to sing along. Time after time, her gaze was drawn back to the coffin; how could something so simple contain a man so complex? It didn't make sense to her. She wanted to scream that it was all wrong, but the words were trapped in her throat, seemingly unable to get past the lump that had formed there.

A flurry of movement to her left caught her eye and she saw an immaculately dressed Adam walk forwards from his pew. Rarely had she seen him look this sombre and down trodden; there were dark circles under his eyes and she knew then that she wasn't the only one to have lost someone they loved. She took a small comfort in the knowledge that her pain at losing Harry was shared by some of those closest to them both. His blue eyes glittered with unshed tears as he caught her gaze briefly before starting his reading.

_Death is nothing at all; I have only slipped away into the next room._

_Whatever we were to each __other, that__ we still are._

_Call me by my old familiar name, wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow; life means all that it ever meant._

_Why should I be out of mind only because I am out of sight?_

_I am waiting for you, an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner._

_All is well._

Soft, haunting music played as the casket was wheeled from the church and she concentrated on walking up the aisle behind it, the sea of faces she passed all just a blur to her. Never had walking been such a difficult task; she wobbled like a toddler and reminded herself to put one foot in front of the other. He had wanted to be cremated and, to her shame, she was thankful for it; she had never been one to bear the sight of a coffin being lowered into the ground. She stared moodily out of the window and watched the rain drops as they rolled down the glass; the rain always reminded her of him. She remembered the night, so long ago now, that he had kissed her as they walked the rain-soaked streets of London, hand in hand. As they had kissed, the rain had poured and, laughing as she shrieked about getting soaked, he had pulled them both into a phone box to shelter. As the windows had grown steamy and they both shivered from the cold, he had whispered his love for her.

She heard her name being called and realised they were at the crematorium. On auto pilot, she followed Catherine and the others inside, digging her nails into her palms to stop the tears from overwhelming her. She wanted the agony to stop - for the day to be over - and yet she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him. She stood and listened as Catherine bravely stepped forward to talk of her father. She spoke of love and devotion, of a man that was loyal and faithful, hard working and passionate. She spoke of a treasure that had been lost to them. Ruth hugged her tightly as she returned to her seat, releasing her only when the first chords of the final music played.

_Did I disappoint you or let you down?_

_Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?_

_'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun_

_Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won._

_So I took what's mine by eternal right._

_Took your soul out into the night._

_It may be over but it won't stop there_

_I am here for you if you'd only care._

_You touched my heart you touched my soul._

_You changed my life and all my goals._

_And love is blind and that I knew _

_when__My heart was blinded by you._

_I've kissed your lips and held your head._

_Shared your dreams and shared your bed._

_I know you well, I know your smell._

_I've been addicted to you._

A sob tore from her throat and she was unable to stop the tears this time. As she listened to the words and let her grief consume her, she thought of him.

_Goodbye my lover._

_Goodbye my friend._

_You have been the one._

_You have been the one for me._

_I am a dreamer but when I wake_

_You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take._

_And as you move on, remember me_

_Remember us and all we used to be_

_I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile._

_I've watched you sleeping for a while._

_I'd be the father of your child._

_I'd spend a lifetime with you._

_I know your fears and you know mine._

_We've had our doubts but now we're fine_

_And I love you, I swear that's true._

_I cannot live without you._

She trembled and shook but managed to shuffle forwards and stand in front of his casket. Her shaking fingers reaching out to caress the smooth wood.

_Goodbye my lover._

_Goodbye my friend._

_You have been the one._

_You have been the one for me._

Her lips quivered as she raised her hand to her mouth and kissed her finger tips. The final kiss touched the wood as she whispered, 'I love you Harry'

._And I still hold your hand in mine._

_In mine when I'm asleep._

_And I will bear my soul in time_

_When I'm kneeling at your feet._

_Goodbye my lover._

_Goodbye my friend._

_You have been the one._

_You have been the one for me._

_I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow._

_I'm so, I'm so, __I'm__ so hollow._

The final words of the song echoed through her head as she walked away. She had never felt so alone despite the people that surrounded her and offered their condolences.

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The house was fuller than it had been in months, clusters of people gathered around, talking politely as they drank cups of sweet tea and ate slices of cake. Being a widow was exhausting she had found. Initially the distraction had been welcome as she made her way between groups of people, but inevitably it felt forced. She was going through the motions, not really listening anymore as people she didn't really know told her how much he would be missed. She was relieved when the first mourners left, followed by a steady trickle of people as they escaped from the grief and despair back to their own lives.

Somewhere in the midst of well meaning platitudes, she had managed to escape to the kitchen. she rested her forehead against the cool wood of the kitchen cabinet and took her first real breaths of the day. Eyes closed, she let thoughts of him invade her senses, tears escaping her damp lashes and pooling on the kitchen counter as she wept, silently.

A scent on the air and there was a half smile on her lips as she heard his voice. "Don't cry my love."

"It's a funeral, Harry. It's what people do."

"Actually, this is a wake." There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Pedant."

"You love me for it."

Fresh tears swam in her eyes and she fought past the lump in her throat to whisper, "Yes. Yes, I do."

"Glad to hear it." He smiled at her in that oh-so familiar way and her stomach fluttered just as it always had.

"Am I going mad?"

"No more than usual."

She glared at him in spite of the small smile that flickered about her lips. "God you're annoying at times."

"Guilty as charged."

A sweet laugh escaped her and, for a second, she allowed herself to enjoy the warmth it brought before covering her mouth and looking horror-stricken at having done so.

"It's not a crime to laugh, Ruth. It helps to heal the soul."

"Perhaps I don't want it to heal."

"I think we both know that's a lie. A flattering one, but a lie all the same."

"What do you want from me Harry?" A sudden flash of anger gripped her and her words were short.

"I want you to stop hiding in the kitchen. I want you to go and sit with our friends that need you as much as you need them. Take some whisky, get blindingly drunk with them and tell stupid stories about me and the things I used to do."

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before reaching into the cupboard and pulling out a large bottle of whisky. "I don't know why I'm humouring you; I know you're not real. This is all in my head and is worthy of a visit to Tring should anyone catch me talking to you as if you're actually here."

She took a last look at him and turned to leave.

"Just because it's in your head, doesn't mean it's not real, sweetheart. Just because I'm not here doesn't mean I'm not with you."

There was a brief pause in her steps as she pulled herself together. She didn't need to look back to know he was no longer stood there but her soul felt a fraction lighter as his words echoed in her mind.

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**If I haven't depressed you too much a review would be appreciated.**


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